


Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs: Issue #4

by MellytheHun



Series: Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7160225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles might just need the help of his father to get his story back on course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs: Issue #4

The Sheriff looks up from his paperwork at the kitchen table to look at Stiles. He’s in his pajamas, it’s two in the morning and he’s got enough printed papers in his hand to rewrite War and Peace on. He’s been grounded for the past month, with no honest or good explanation as to what happened to his phone and the Sheriff _knows_ he’s hiding things. 

He didn’t get the job title for nothing.

But the kid looks thin because he hasn’t been eating enough and he looks pale because he hasn’t been sleeping enough and whatever is haunting him, he’s finally come to his father about. So, the Sheriff stows away any left over parental anger and leans back in his seat. 

Stiles takes a deep breath and announces, “my confirmation bias is ruining my investigation and I need your help.”

That’s not what the Sheriff was expecting to hear.

Maybe an apology, maybe an honest explanation about what happened to his phone, maybe a plea to hang out with Scott - but not that he has been conducting some sort of investigation in his room for the last four weeks.

“Uhm, okay…”  


The Sheriff moves his paperwork aside and gestures for Stiles to sit down across from him, which he readily does. He rubs his forehead in a way that the Sheriff does when he’s under stress and it’s too endearing to ignore.

“What’s going on, kiddo?”  


“The Hale fire,” Stiles says grimly.  


“The Hale fire?” The Sheriff asks, “Why are you looking into that? That had to be… wow, that had to be around six or -”  


“Eight. Eight years and nine months ago.”  


The Sheriff frowns seriously.

“What’s going on, Stiles?”  


“Why did no one find the arsonist?”  


The Sheriff shrugs, “I was only an officer at the time - barely had the authority to ask for search warrants. I wasn’t even near that case. Why are you looking into that? Is it because of the Hale boy saving you?”

“It is exactly because of Derek saving me,” Stiles stresses, rubbing the heels of his palms onto his brows, “The fire was set, that’s obvious, but there’s no _motive_ anywhere. We’ve never had a serial arsonist in Beacon Hills - this was a one-and-done deal. Someone aimed at the Hales on purpose and then dropped off the grid. No suspects, no motives. I’m at a dead end and -”  


“You know anything about Paige Krasikeva?”  


Stiles’ face falls, his hands coming down and shoulders slacking.

“No… who is she?”  


“She was a young girl. Went missing ten years ago.”  


Paling, Stiles nods and asks, “okay, so… what does that have to do with the Hale fire?”

“Motive,” the Sheriff replies, “Derek Hale was dating Paige Krasikeva at the time she went missing. His mother wouldn’t let him speak to us without a lawyer and there were no charges we could press against him other than being wildly suspicious.”  


Stiles’ brow furrows.

“You think someone killed the entire Hale family because they thought Derek might be responsible for murdering Paige Krasikeva?”  


The Sheriff’s mood immediately shifts and the room seems darker than before.

“I never said murder.”  


Stiles’ heart skips a beat.

“B-but it was what you were thinking,” Stiles inserts unsteadily, “I know the forty-eight hour rule in missing persons’ cases. Forty-eight hours and you go from looking for a captive to looking for a body.”  


“What did Derek Hale tell you, Stiles?”  


Stiles swallows roughly and stands up, gathering his papers, “nothing. I’m sorry I came down here. Never mind. I’m going back to my room to will myself out of existence.”

“Stiles,” the Sheriff warns hotly, “Stiles, you sit down now and tell me what the Hell is going on.”  


“Nothing!” Stiles says too quickly, “Nothing is going on!”  


“Then something happened -”  


“Nothing happened! There were no happenings! Nothing occurred, nothing was said, no one did anything or thought anything and I’m going to my room to continue being, saying, knowing, doing and thinking nothing.”  


The Sheriff tamps down on his temper and follows Stiles up the stairs.

“Stiles - talk to me. What is going on? Did Hale implicate himself in Paige’s disappearance? Did he tell you something?”  


“Why do you care about _her_!?” Stiles shouts, looking shaken and unwound, “I came down to you to help _Derek_! I _want_ to help _Derek_! Paige was - Paige _went_ missing, okay? A decade ago! And no one found her! Super sad! You know what else is super sad? That Derek Hale’s _entire family_ was _murdered_ in one fell swoop and _no one **did anything**_!”  


The Sheriff is stunned into silence and Stiles’ eyes brim with tears.

“Something bad happened to Paige and that’s terrible and I’m sorry about whatever happened to her, but Derek Hale saved my life. Derek Hale - Derek Hale has no one but his sister. In the whole world. I mean it, dad. He doesn’t have any friends - he doesn’t work, he doesn’t go out - he’s a recluse! He’s never, ever healed from this and I just… I just… I just wanna help him. I just wanna find justice for him.”  


There’s a beat of silence where Stiles stares at the floor and compulsively cracks his thumb knuckles and then he says, “there were eight people in that house when it went down.”

Another beat of silence.

“There were two infants under a year old, Thomas and Lila and one eight year-old girl, Cora. Derek’s uncle Peter, his father Lucas, his mother Talia, Peter’s wife Nicole and his maternal grandmother, Johanna. She was eighty-nine. Three months from turning ninety.”  


A tear falls off the tip of Stiles’ nose and lands on his naked foot.

“So, look… I’m sorry about Paige, but Paige has been gone for a long time and search parties scoured the town, search dogs were sent, her photo was plastered all over the town, I’m sure. Because this town comes to a grinding halt the second a little white girl goes missing. But no one even tried to help the Hales. Derek can’t trust anyone - he barely trusts himself. I wanna be… I wanna be someone he can trust.”  


“Stiles,” his father starts gently, “…I know gratitude can be a powerful thing, but you don’t owe Derek Hale anything.”  


Stiles shakes his head and replies, “I care about him so much.”

His father’s brows curve in and Stiles looks away, blinking away the glassiness from his eyes.

“I care about him so, _so much_ ,” Stiles voice cracks, but he doesn’t care, “I want him to trust me. I want to be a part of his life. I don’t care if this whole town thinks he’s some sort of child killer - I don’t give a shit about what any of you think about him. I _know_ him. He likes oldies music, he makes perfectly round pancakes, he and his sister have legitimate arguments over _Flip or Flop_ , he’s an avid reader and he just wants to feel safe.”  


“Stiles -”  


“He makes me feel safe, dad.”  


His father looks at him expectantly until he picks his head up again and looks determinedly into his eyes.

“I just want to return the favor. I just want to be for him what he’s been for me…”  


There’s a pregnant pause and then his father sighs deeply and concedes, “okay. Okay - we’ll do this your way. What do you want to know?”

“What was he like? When you brought him in, accusing him of doing - doing whatever it is you thought he did to Paige?”  


“He was in shambles,” his father replies solemnly, “He cried nearly the entire time. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. All he told us was that he loved her very much and then said that his mother told him not to say anything until their lawyer was present.”  


Stiles nods, the image of an adolescent Derek crying and shaking, in need of a good sleep and a warm embrace making him feel colder and more useless than ever before.

“There _was_ a suspect, in the Hale fire case.”  


Stiles’ head snaps up at attention and his father rubs his hand over his greying hair, “I shouldn’t be telling you this…”

“But you’re going to.”  


A defeated sigh and then, “Kate Argent.”

Stiles’ head tilts to the side, “…who is she?”

“She left town shortly after the fire. She was a substitute teacher at Beacon Hills High at the time. An anonymous informant called the offices one day - I… I picked up the phone.”  


“What did they say?” Stiles asks, engrossed and eager.  


“They said they were worried about Derek Hale. I think it was another student - they referred to her as ‘Ms. Argent,’ and they told me that Ms. Argent had taken an unprofessional interest in Derek. That they got the feeling something was… not right between them.”  


Stiles’ heart sinks somewhere even lower than his feet.

“…you had reason to believe that Derek was being abused by a teacher and no one did anything?”  


“It was one anonymous caller with no evidence other than a ‘bad feeling.’ I never saw them together - my boss didn’t want me to put my energy into a dead end. I had a lot of work at the time - I just… let it go. Then, about a month later, the fire happened.”  


“Do you think she raped him?”  


“Stiles,” his father says, sounding uneasy.  


“Do you?” Stiles asks, panicked, as if he could still rescue teenage Derek from her clutches; run out of the house in his pajamas into the dark of the night and take him away from her - “Do you think she was - was abusing him?”  


“Yes,” he answers shamefully, “I do. The student I spoke to - they sounded genuinely worried for Derek. A lot of the guys at the station made jokes about Kate Argent - her being a pretty woman, uninterested in relationships. But, after that call, every time I heard them bring her up, I thought that she probably just wasn’t interested in men their age.”  


Stiles’ eyes flicker across his father’s face, wide and wet and his father adds quietly, “I’ve regretted a lot of things in my line of work, Stiles, but probably nothing as much as I regret not having insisted that I had enough cause for concern to start an investigation for Derek.”

Stiles probably can’t shame his father as much as his father has shamed himself already, so he remains silent.

“I was there when he came to the station - after the fire. He was sitting with Laura, his older sister. It was like he wasn’t there at all. Laura looked like she’d been crying for a long time, but Derek looked like an empty shell. There was nothing behind his eyes. Like a corpse.”  


“Shit,” Stiles hisses, walking into his room and dropping his papers over his desk, “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”  


“I’m sorry, Stiles -”  


“You’ve been… honest with me, dad.”  


The Sheriff stands stiffly in the doorway as Stiles turns to him and then finds he can’t keep eye-contact. He stares down at his pajama pants, sitting down in his computer chair.

“I… I’ll be honest with you too.”  


The Sheriff moves into the room and sits on Stiles’ bed. Stiles doesn’t turn the chair to face him.

“Derek… Derek did have something to do with Paige’s murder.”  


“Stiles -”  


“Murder. She was murdered. And… Derek had something to do with it, but I don’t know what. All I know is that he would never, never hurt someone like that - he would never… he would _never_.”  


The Sheriff didn’t look all too convinced - even jumpy. Like the moment Stiles’ eyes were off him, he’d call the station and tell them to pick up Derek for the murder of Paige Krasikeva. 

“There’s… there’s more.”  


The Sheriff looks disbelieving and Stiles knows it’s going to be a long, long morning.

+

Stiles hasn’t even shut the passenger side door to his father’s patrol car before Derek is on them, looking furious.

“Get out of here, Stiles.”  


“Derek,” the Sheriff interjects.  


Derek hesitates before looking at him. He looks younger somehow, under the Sheriff’s stare.

“Sir,” Derek replies rigidly.  


“How about we go upstairs to this very modernly designed loft I’ve heard so much about?”  


Derek is torn between his anger and very sudden confusion. He glances between Stiles and the Sheriff a few times before turning around silently and walking back into the building. Laura is standing in the living room space, wringing her wrists, seeming to ask Stiles why in the world he’s brought his father.

What frightens Stiles is that if his father had any intention of bringing harm to Derek, Laura probably wouldn’t hesitate to seriously maim him. If not do worse.

“I won’t take too much of your time,” the Sheriff starts calmly, but sternly, “I just have a question for Derek.”  


Derek stands with crossed arms by the far window, glaring at Stiles. Laura keeps worriedly glancing between Stiles, the Sheriff and Derek - mostly at Derek. Stiles is so worried his father is about to rub salt into a raw wound and this could all go to shit so quickly.

The Sheriff takes his gun out of its holster and places it on the kitchen counter, which he follows with his badge.

This seems to confuse both Hale siblings.

“I’m not here on official business, Derek,” the Sheriff says gruffly, mimicking Derek’s posture, “But I need to know why you killed Paige Krasikeva.”  


The air changes so immediately in that terrifying way it does in Derek’s presence - Derek’s eyes widen, unguarded and injured. His arms come loose, half up and half down, unsure of what to do. He shoots his eyes to Stiles and it’s like a knife twisting in Stiles’ chest.

“Son,” the Sheriff says, forcing Derek to look at him again, “I’m not going to arrest you. I’m not going to press charges. Tell me the truth.”  


“Th-this is out of line!” Laura shouts, stepping in front of her brother with arms spread out, as if the Sheriff were threatening to shoot him, “You both - you both need to leave! This instant!”  


“I might not have any supernatural powers like you, but I’ll know if you’re lying.”  


The silence is like lead.

“Come again?” Laura asks shakily.  


“I hardly know anything and understand even less of it, but Stiles has spent the last seven hours trying his damnedest to convince me that you two are… have some special abilities. I don’t have any. I’m just good at my job. I didn’t come here to report you, to hand you into anyone -”  


“You need to leave,” Laura warns dangerously, looking frantic and a little unhinged, “You need to leave _now_ , I -”  


“She begged me to.”  


Laura jumps and twists around to look at Derek, who is staring directly at the Sheriff. Something glassy is in Derek’s eyes and Stiles wants so badly to run over and hold him, but he knows he can’t.

“Why would she beg you to?” the Sheriff asks.  


Derek swallows and it’s visible from across the loft.

It’s like the teenager that shook and cried in the interrogation room ten years ago is back in this room - he’s just operating a bigger, stronger body.

“I…”  


“Derek, you don’t - you don’t need to say anything,” Laura rushes, putting her hands on his face, “Derek - you don’t have to do this. Look at me.”  


Derek obeys her and she swipes a thumb under his left eye - if there was a tear falling, she wasn’t going to allow Stiles or his father to see it. She shakes her head, at a loss and wraps her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to better reach him. His arms come around her and he cups the back of her head.

Stiles can’t help but notice that Derek’s hands look gentle in Laura’s hair and against the fabric of her sweater. He can’t remember what they felt like against his forehead when he woke up in Derek’s bed - he wants to, more than he’s wanted anything, but his brain or body just won’t cooperate. 

“An Alpha gave her the Bite,” Derek says, “…my… I was… I was convinced by someone that the only way to be with her - to stay with her - was to change her into one of us. I couldn’t go to my mother. I… I couldn’t go to anyone.”  


Laura’s grip around him gets tighter and Derek looks like he’s putting a lot of effort towards not letting it visibly effect him.

“I tried to stop it. Once - once it started, I knew it wasn’t right - something about it wasn’t right and I tried to… but he was an Alpha and I was small and weak… and… she was already hurt. It took everything in me to get her away from him and she suffered for a long time.”  


“Derek, you don’t have to…” Laura mutters wetly into his neck.  


He pets her hair and looks directly into the Sheriff’s eyes.

“I used what power I could to numb her pain, but it was too much. She couldn’t… _I_ couldn’t… she was going to die in terrible pain, or I could end it for her and she asked me… she begged me to end it. So… I did.”  


“What did you do to her?”  


“…I broke her neck.”  


Silence descends again and Stiles lets out an exhale that sounds punched out of him. The Sheriff places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder without removing his eyes from Derek’s.

“She’s buried somewhere close?”  


“Yes,” Derek answers.  


The Sheriff nods and asks, “you, uh… you ended it as gently as you could, right?”

“I did,” Derek replies softly, “…I did everything I could.”  


Unprompted, Derek adds, “I held her for a long time afterward.”

The Sheriff nods and opens his mouth to ask something, but Derek seems to know what it will be.

“My mother found us. She helped me bury her.”  


“Were you disappointed to find that saving my son did not save her?”  


Laura whips around and even Stiles looks wide-eyed at his father. Laura has tears spread over her face and she looks livid.

“How _dare_ you come into our home - you obviously know everything and _what_? You came here to drag him through this _nightmare_ all over again?! My brother is the most peaceful, loving man I’ve ever known and this - this - this…!”  


She looks at a loss for words again. She looks to Derek and says quickly, “you were right, Derek. We never should have come back here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Derek - go - go pack your things. We’ll be out of here before noon.”

Derek nods once at her and doesn’t look at Stiles or the Sheriff before moving up the stairs.

“You know, I think her parents would appreciate having her remains, Derek,” the Sheriff calls after him, “…she was an only child. She was all they had.”  


Derek pauses for a long moment before turning around and with the coldest eyes Stiles has ever seen on a person, looking far and away, out of Stiles’ reach - Laura’s reach - anyone’s reach - he replies coolly, “were you under the impression that some other fifteen year old kid held her mother during the memorial service?”

No one says anything.

“You think I don’t know that?” Derek asks stoically, “You think I didn’t want to carry her to the closest hospital - give her parents the plot where she was buried so they could drop flowers on something other than a slab of granite with her name on it?”  


“You don’t owe them an explanation,” Laura assures Derek.  


Derek glances at her, then looks down at the stair he’s standing on.

“Paige wouldn’t have wanted them to see her the way she was - they would’ve been destroyed to see how injured she was. This way, at least, they remember her the way she was when she came home from school that day. They remember her the way they should. I’m the one that carries her. It wasn’t a slight against her parents. It was the only mercy I had left to offer.”  


“The fire,” the Sheriff starts unreadably, “…was it Kate, Derek? Did she hurt you?”  


Stiles sees what the Sheriff meant suddenly - the way a person can look like a corpse even though they’re alive. The way Derek seems to disappear from his own eyes.

“I _was_ disappointed at first,” Derek answers quietly, “that it was Stiles in that phone booth and not Paige. But it’s too late to save Paige. Stiles is all you have.”  


The Sheriff looks a little uneasy and takes a half-step toward Stiles, as if he’s worried Derek might take Stiles from him for having brought the memories of Paige back to him.

“I got to him in time. I stopped the big, bad man before he could do irreversible damage. When I carried Stiles, he wasn’t heavy with blood or crying out in pain I couldn’t take away. He was crying a little, but he was mostly relieved. And he’s light as a feather, even drenched in rain.”  


Stiles really wishes Derek would look at him; his heart is thudding away and Laura’s defenses are still so high, they’re almost palpable. 

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Derek says, turning back to walk up the stairs, “But when I got to Stiles in time, it felt a lot like Paige knew I had and she was glad for Stiles, but she was more glad for me. And to be honest, I’ve never had a better night’s sleep than the night I knew Stiles was safe because of me.”  


He disappears up the stairs without another word and Laura points a shaking hand at the kitchen counter and says, “gather your things, Sheriff, and _leave_. You’ve done _quite_ enough damage here, I think. And we’re leaving, so you can rest assured that no more injury will come to any Beacon Hills citizens from Derek.”

Stiles doesn’t remember moving his legs, but he’s halfway up the staircase when he hears Laura yell at him. He doesn’t listen - he’s terrified of her right now and he’s terrified of what he knows and what he knows he doesn’t know yet. He finds Derek sitting on the foot of his bed, head in hands, clearly unwilling to look at him.

Stiles cracks his knuckles in the doorway and he notices one of his converse are untied. 

“I would… I would give _anything_ to save you from Kate.”  


Derek’s hands fall away and he turns his head to look at Stiles with wide eyes.

“I… the thought of _anyone_ hurting you… I… was trying to find out who killed your family. I was trying to… I wanted you to forgive me, for doubting you. For being scared when really… when _you_ were the scared one.”  


He runs a hand through his hair and expounds, “I want you to feel safe. More than anything, Derek. And if… if I’ve ruined this place for you all over again - if I’ve…”

Despite his best efforts, the tears bubble over his lashes and fall down his freckled face.

“If I’ve ruined everything and I th-think I have and you h-hate me, that’s okay - I… I care about you so much and I’m so sorry I hurt you and you’ll never, ever stop being my hero. Derek Hale. You’ll… no matter how far away you go or however long you’re gone… you’ll _always_ be my hero for saving me and I’ll always l-love you… for… for being the person you are. So. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”  


Stiles finds himself wrapped up in a lot of warm muscle very suddenly. He gasps - he’s never really touched Derek and he’s softer than Stiles imagined. He’s gripping Stiles so tightly and it makes Stiles cry harder.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from Kate - I know, I know I wasn’t - that I was a kid and we didn’t know each other, but I’m still sorry - I’m sorry no one protected you and I'm sorry I ruined everything, I’m sorry I ruin everything, I’m sorry I called you and fucked up your life and I-I-”  


Derek’s lips are very full.

His stubble tickles and his hands are calloused, but broad and warm in Stiles’ hair, tilting his head back and to the side. His tongue is silky and it’s putting Stiles’ heart into overdrive. His shaking hands come up to Derek’s chest, his knees getting a little weak - it doesn’t matter, because one of Derek’s hands abandons his hair to hold his waist and keep him upright.

When Derek pulls away, Stiles swears he sees birds flitting around his head, he hears bells chiming and it’s probably the light coming through Derek’s bedroom window, but Derek definitely has a halo. He’s so impossibly close. His lips are still brushing against Stiles’, their noses are still touching and Stiles’ watery eyes are half-lidded, getting lost in the multitude of hues and shades in Derek’s.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Stiles. I’m not sorry you called me. You didn’t fuck my life up - I’m pretty sure I did that all on my own.”  


Stiles lets out a wet half-sigh, half-laugh.

Derek gives him this private, beautiful, small smile and Stiles is floating away somewhere.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe, Stiles,” Derek says honestly, petting down some of Stiles’ unruly hair, “but you… fulfill me. You make me feel like I can… make up for everything, somehow. You’ve been the best thing to stumble into my life in a long time. Don’t be sorry.”  


Stiles feels more tears slip down his cheeks and he begs quietly, “please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Wh-what if I wind up in another horror movie and there’s no other Werewolf in the vicinity?” 

Derek chuckles and it’s a deep rumble from his chest that makes Stiles’ stomach squirm pleasantly.

“I’ll stay, Stiles. But I’m not staying to protect you.”  


Stiles tilts his head back and quirks his brows, confused and a little worried.

“I’m staying because I love you.”  


Derek catches Stiles before he lands on the floor as a bundle of gangly limbs. He even laughs again.

“Your legs aren’t very reliable, Stiles.”  


“Good thing your arms are,” Stiles replies.  


Derek lifts Stiles up and carries him over to the bed, sitting him down and crouching in front of him. He gazes into Stiles’ eyes for a long while before Stiles asks,

“Does Laura know what’s going on up here?”  


“She’s telling your dad we’re ‘having a moment.’ Believe me, I’m going to feel her wrath as soon as you’re out of earshot.”  


Stiles tries to cover up his giggle, but he can’t. Derek doesn’t seem to mind.

“Stiles…”  


He looks into Derek’s eyes, open and glistening.

“Have you ever considered that you’re the hero of this story?”  


There aren’t words Stiles knows that describe what that question does to him, so he kisses Derek instead and makes a new vow; he’ll protect Derek with everything he is and has. He’ll love Derek with all of his heart and soul and one day… maybe a day far away from now, he’ll ask Derek if he feels safe and Derek will tell him that, in his company, yes. He will. And Stiles will love him all the more for it.


End file.
